Subject: Natalie's Night (01/01) Date: Tue, 16 Mar 1999 09:01:13 -0700 From: clark To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU A couple months ago, Susan G. and, I think, Cousin Mary were discussing on forkni-l how Natalie always has such bad luck dating. All the guys in Toronto seem to be married, serial killers, or vampires. They also thought someone should write about this and, for reasons unknown, my name was mentioned. Well, I'm slow. But, this story comes from that suggestion. I hope it's deemed worthy. Feedback, as always, is welcomed. Permission to archive at FkFanFic website and the FTP site. This story is based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. "Natalie's Night" by S. Clark Natalie Lambert took a seat at what appeared to be the last free table in the coffeehouse. The place was new, and was obviously developing a good reputation. As she sipped her latte, Nat looked around the room. Every other table seemed to be occupied by couples. They were whispering secrets, holding hands. She turned her focus to the magazine she'd brought along, and tried to forget that she often felt like the last single woman in Toronto. "Excuse me?" Natalie looked up from her reading. She had been so deep in thought she wasn't sure how long the man had been standing at the table, trying to get her attention. She gave him a smile. "I'm sorry." "Things are pretty packed tonight. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind sharing." He gestured at the open chair. "Of course not." Natalie looked at the man. He appeared to be about her age. Attractive. As he set his mug on the table she glanced at his hand. No ring. "So, what has you so occupied?" He pulled up the corner of her magazine to get a glimpse at the title. He raised an eyebrow, which she met with an embarrassed shrug. "'Journal of Forensic Technique.'" His tone indicated amusement. "A little light reading?" "It's for work." "I think I'm glad to hear it's not a hobby." He held out his hand. "Tim Murphy." She shook the proffered hand. "Natalie Lambert." Natalie fell into a relaxed conversation, simple small talk, with the man. She found Tim literate and witty, able to speak on a wide variety of subjects. It all seemed almost too simple, too easy. Something wasn't quite right. Then it finally hit her. And, unable to stop herself, she started laughing. Tim replayed in this thoughts what he'd just said. An observation on Toronto traffic, certainly not that funny of a comment. "Are you laughing at me, Natalie?" She dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "I'm sorry, it's not at all related. Just a stray thought." "Care to share?" "Mind if I ask a question first?" Tim nodded. "Go for it." "Are you married?" He shook his head. "No." "Gay?" She was worried after asking that the question might offend him, but he just started chuckling. "No." "An escaped felon? Serial murderer? Cursed creature of the night?" "No, no and most definitely no. But I call my mother once a week." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Is this a problem? Or am I merely hopelessly normal?" "It's fine, just fine." She smiled. "I just never seem to meet perfectly nice, normal guys in Toronto. It's a pleasant change." "Maybe it's because I just moved to Toronto." "Maybe that's it." "So, what brought you here?" "I was transferred to a new position." "Employed, too." She leaned closer to him. "What is it you do?" "I'm the new associate pastor at St. Anne's." Natalie dropped her head to the table, not wanting him to see her embarrassment. "It figures," she murmured. "With my luck, it just figures."